Piano Conversations
by yorushihe
Summary: Gregory House is in a slump, hiding from his goons (and Wilson), when he meets with someone who might be an Assassin with a penchant for chain smoking and classic piano composers. Who said anything about self preservation? - Warning, some cursing.
1. Chapter 1

AN: An idea I had watching House reruns the other day… this happens maybe between seasons 5 and 6, before House is hospitalized in Mayfield. In KHR universe, it happens TYL – Hayato is on a mission in the states ;)

 **Piano Conversation.**

A bar in the outskirts of New Jersey.

The bar was one of those old saloon style places that still served homemade beer and had a free, open karaoke – and to Gregory House's delight, also had a beautiful dark mahogany vintage piano, that despite its yellowed keys still played a fine tune. The dim lightning of the place combined with the musky smell coming from the tattered World War II carpets made the secluded booths seem all the more isolated.

It was a relatively new find for Greg, he's not one to come into these parts of Princeton – a complete 180 from the hospital and his house. But this was a special occasion, he sarcastically congratulated himself on his cunning.

With Cuddy, Wilson and possibly his own cronies staking out his favorite haunts in fear he'd be doing something stupid, he had to find somewhere completely unrelated to his routine to hide in until they dropped their guards.

Maybe he'd even pick up a hooker or two on his way home. It was only fair after what Lisa- no, Dr. Cuddy did.

But then again, he did like to provoke her like there's no tomorrow.

 _Dingle_.

There goes the bell tied to the top of the door. The saloon was quite quaint, small and homely so the sound penetrated through the ambience music and all conversation stopped for a second or two as _everyone_ turned almost at the same time to check out the new comer – the way they did with Greg before he limped his way to a seat and bellowed for a beer.

( _"What? Can't a man get a dose of his medicine in peace?"_

" _A man can order his medicine, yes" The barman joked back, cheeks stretching familiar laugh marks to show unashamedly yellowed teeth. The other factory workers occupying the saloon laughed good naturally. "Forgive the old gossipers, it's rare to find someone looking like you in these parts"_

" _Oh?" Greg's raised eyebrow only made the barman's eyes narrow in another quiet grin_

" _Money. But don't worry, we're all good men"_

 _Greg wasn't worried, his own fastidious mind have already come to that conclusion already)_.

The door creaked as it opened, the hinges rusted beyond a simple oiling, to admit a curious looking young man… Noting the singular sight around the place, Greg came to the conclusion that this young man came here often, or was a common enough face.

At first glance, he looked like a punk.

One of those rich boys wanna-be delinquents who didn't know street life if it bit them in the ass – Shoulder length silvery grey hair (eyebrows and eyelashes the same color, _maybe_ it was his natural coloring, how rare _stress,cancer,congenitaldisease,hypothyroidism,wierdgenetics?),_ beaten up black leather jacket, dark jeans and boots – plus the half a kilogram worth of metal in the shape of chains covering the kid. A square shaped object in his pocket and the yellowed finger tips were a bit of a clue into the smoking habit, but what really came as a surprise was when the kid made a bee-line for the piano.

What skin he could see from the kid was also covered with thin scars.

Rachmaninoff started sounding, weirdly out of place from that old piano but compelling all the same.

The piece was a hard one to master and play with any decree of assurance, but the kid _owned it_ , to Greg's new found fascination. Such a contradiction! With a huff, Greg hobbled out of his cozy booth and made his painfully slow way to one of the stools facing the bar and the crackling tube television in the corner.

"Who's the kid?" He asked the barman, who was caught along with the other gruff old men in the kid's music.

"Dunno, but he been coming since Monday and plays that old thing like no one else I've seen (or heard) before" Rachmaninoff trailed off with a wailing last note before starting again in Liszt. "Don't even know half the fancy things he plays! But the boys love it when it's not a game night" Greg didn't even know undedicated badly paid factory workers were even sensible enough to appreciate classical music, but apparently they were developing the taste.

Amusement swelled in him.

Until his own fingers started mimicking key strokes as if he, himself was playing. That silver haired punk was something else, Greg allowed a small smile to creep up his lips – so in typical House fashion, he waited until Liszt was over to scoop a chair beside the piano bench and lean unnervingly close to the kid. The young man twitched, his fingers spamming over the notes for a second before he relaxed again.

Greg took the opportunity to strike a conversation… and Wilson said he was antisocial. "Do you know any Gershwin?" He asked curiously and a little bit challengingly. "If you do I will pay you a drink" Was the enticing offer that he was kind of hoping to lose, strangely enough.

The mysterious silver haired pianist bristled. Literally. Like an angry cat. Turning sharp light green eyes to meet

Greg's luminous blue ones to measure the elder man up…

"What is it to you, old man!?" _Who do you think you're talking to!?_ Went largely unsaid, but one thing was clear when Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue started skillfully and with sharp, angry precision.

Greg sat back satisfied with himself.

The boy had a strange accent, more European than American, though it was pretty hard to detect until he spoke the word _old_ and curled his _L_ just so, like the remains of Spanish or Italian that put more emphasis on those sounds. He also smelled of leather, tobacco and _gunpowder_.

The Doctor was horribly tempted to ask ' _who do you work for'_ but found utterly unnecessary to antagonize the kid this early in their acquaintance and drive him away before he could be unraveled. Greg likes puzzles, what could he do?

So he clenched his fist on top of his aching lag, drawing the kid's eyes to it and making the fingers playing the keys fumble a bit. The face that before was hard as stone relaxed a little.

' _So my little friend is compassionate?_ ' Greg thought to himself ' _No, it's more like nostalgia than pity'_ better, he thought, but what must the kid be thinking about that melted that stern visage? "Schumann" Greg piped out another composer when Rhapsody in Blue was slowing off. "Two drinks"

(Unknown to Greg, his young friend was thinking of his own Boss, who'd have taken pity on the poor cripled old man who might or might not be senile, so Hayato humored him)

Immediately, Kinderszenen's first note played out, making Greg's eyes twinkle. "Chopin"… The notes of Minuette danced away, and Greg went on, spouting out one composer after the other and enjoying himself immensely when the kid knew about them enough to play a composition or two. At least until Greg decided to pick the ace of his deck and test it "Rimsky Korsakov".

The kid paused, looking utterly astonished, so much it drew a snicker out of Greg. "I don't know that one" He admitted after a while of glaring angrily at the piano, and then later throwing a glower at Greg's direction.

This was his chance, the Doctor thought, to crack through the kid's defenses if only a little bit. With a large, challenging grin, Greg pushed the kid out of the piano bench and cracked his fingers.

Before long, One of Rimsky Korsakov's Tsar Saltan's Opera pieces were being played. Perhaps not as inspiringly professional like the kid, but in his defense he also knew how to play a number of other instruments and spoke a dozen languages.

And then the husky voice of his young puzzle sounded out "Not bad for a senior, Sonata Pathethic" He ordered, not even bothering to mention the composer. If Greg didn't recognize the piece he might as well give up the piano. The piece Beethoven wrote while in the beginning of his career was raw, but Gregory House knew how to work his fingers. "Diabelli" Sneaky kid.

Diabelli has hundreds of versions! So Greg grinned and continued with Beethoven's version.

"Enough!" Their bonding experience over the piano was interrupted by the bar man, who stood over them with a frown. "Today is game night" he said simply, pointing to the collection of old men bodies circling around the single TV. "You can play more after the game"

" _Fine, rude gorillas_ " The kid mumbled in Japanese, curiously enough. Greg's grin stretched wider.

" _It's rude to curse another person behind their back in a language they don't speak"_

" _No one asked you, you sack of bones!"_ Chinese.

" _Don't try me"_ Was what Greg answered with a large, unrepentant grin. He was having fun! The kid he thought was a punk at first was a genius! Oho! He loved puzzles, and challenging puzzles were the best. " _Better yet, please do"_

" _Horse faced arsehole"_ French, kid.

" _Snot nosed brat"_ Italian, Greg.

" _Stupid ass cripple"_ Portuguese, kid.

" _You're related to a goat"_ Spanish, Greg.

" _You smell like garbage"_ German, kid.

"Wait… do I?" Greg surreptitiously inclined his head to mock sniff his own armpits. "No I don't, fresh as a daisy. I thought we were hurling insults, what happened to good old satire?"

" _It died and rotted in your ass"_ Russian. Kid. damnit, he got one over, and by the little smirk playing on the youth's face he quite knew it too!

"Alright, you know how to play the piano and at least half a dozen languages. How about we get us pissed drunk since now that I've stooped low enough to trade insults with a pre-scholar I might as well do the decent thing and give him alcohol" Of course he didn't care if the kid was old enough to drink. "Name's House, what's your name?"

"Hayato" The silver haired kid grunted out, sliding into a booth right in front of Greg and giving him the stink eye.

Interesting. How many grades did the kid skip in high school? He looked to be in his early/mid-twenties at most. "So... what brings you here? You know, my friend would think the world is coming down if he ever saw me conversing with someone else but him and my inflatable doll"

Hayato's eyes brightened in amusement, Greg was getting under his skin. He could be charming and cunningly friendly if the situation asked for it. It also helped that Hayato was a genius from his own observations, thus he promised not to be _dull_. "A job. What brings you here?"

 _Smells like gunpowder. A Job. Skin littered with scars._ Greg was playing with fire. It was amusing.

"My boss" He answered succinctly, with a tilt of his head that spoke volumes coupled with a knowing look. Hayato bristled once more, as if offended by something but then caught himself, shaking his head and nodding with this understanding glint in his green eyes. "She wears these really tantalizing tank tops that practically spell sexual harassment and when I show a bit of interest she plays coy"

And so the two of them spent the night talking… Somewhere in Princeton Plainsborough, the combined population shuddered as one.

Gregory House won himself a friend, who might be an assassin, and Hayato won himself a pen pal who wouldn't laugh about his obsession with his boss. Win-win.

(If House even tried to make fun of his obcession with Tsuna, Hayato would just drop Lisa's name. Hah!)

...

 _Thoughts? I thought about continuing this, in which House calls Hayato to assist with a case after he learns Hayato has gone through med-school (influenced by Shamal) just to freak his team off. But I have a piteous low knowledge on medical stuff aside from what I see or read by myself, while House MD series has a team of doctors that do that for the show, hahah! I don't think I can unearth a disease interesting enough for House to pick the case! If someone is interested in the idea and writes something, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! :D_


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Yes I'm weak against the pleas of people and my own ideas… anyway, this won't have many medical jargon since I'm not pretending to understand even half of what most mean, lol!_

 **Piano Conversation.  
(Seconda Instanza)**

All this started with an e-mail.

To: hg_md at princetonpbh dot com ( _status: Wilson is my bitch_ )  
From: smokinbomb_vg at clam dot com ( _status: online_ )  
Subject: (RE) child geniuses abuse

 _Don't say that! If you keep this up I'm posting THAT photo on your hospital profile, and don't you dare involve my Boss in this!_

 _And yes, I do have a medical diploma, useless as it is, I got under threat of my old mentor._

...

To: smokinbomb_vg at clam dot com ( _status: online_ )  
From: hg_md at princetonpbh dot com ( _status: Wilson still is my bitch_ )  
Subject: vacation

 _Come back to New Jersey._

 _Can get you an internship in the hospital. Think of it as a vacation._

 _Ps: already posted that photo myself, reactions were variably amusing and more satisfying than I thought._

 _(Annexed file: reactionpicproof jpg – download – save in the cloud – open in another tab)_

...

With a final click on his laptop's keyboard, Hayato sat back and relaxed his shoulders while thinking with reluctant bemusement at the picture his weird senile penpal painted. House was someone who he would _not_ have had a favorable view on if not for one very important thing.

He didn't act like any of the adults around him – not that this was an important detail anymore, Hayato was already on his merry way into the twenty-sixth house, but the older man was a conniving, manipulative, sociopathic genius and could easily keep up with Hayato no matter the subject.

It was somewhat nice, having a friend who wasn't mafia-related. Though he should have guessed that his happiness wouldn't last long if his Famiglia had anything to say about it – cue ominous foreshadowing, learnt from his precious Boss since Tsuna could be awfully skittish and pessimistic at times. Ah the wonders of familiarity.

He wishes he could blow it up sometimes, along with all the annoying people who dare to even presume to deserve to be on the same level as the Tenth.

"Ara? What is this about an internship?" Like this one… Hayato gnashed his teeth angrily, half searching for the familiar shape and texture of a cigarette and half to curb his immediate reaction, which is to bomb first, call Kusakabe to pick the remains later.

And it miffed that Yamamoto was one of the few people in existence who could sneak up on him. "It's none of your business, baseball freak! And don't read stuff over people's shoulders like that!"

The idiot flashed that nonsense smile of his that only brought up thoughts of sharks baring their teeth. "Sorry, sorry. You know what Hayato-kun? I think you should go!" The silver haired man made sure that his hard stare was as flinty as possible. _'Remember Tenth's rules… no killing famiglia…'_ He had to chant over and over in his head.

"No way!" Was hissed through clenched teeth. It only served to prove that Yamamoto had been reading over his shoulder for a _while_ and had a good grasp on House's request. It didn't bode well for him.

…

The Boss' smiling face was as bright and open and inspiring as usual when it lifted up from the computer screen in his office. "I think it's a nice idea" Tsuna waved a hand at the profile CEDEF has pulled up on one Gregory House. It was impressive, even Shamal whistled when he saw it.

"Yes Boss" Hayato agreed quickly "Anything for you!" He added earnestly, hoping his Boss' terrifyingly accurate Intuition didn't pick up on the slight _dislike_ he had over the idea.

His Boss' face turned painfully understanding, making a weight settle in Hayato's belly that made him feel like the lowest man on Earth. "If you really don't want to, you don't have to Gokudera-kun" Tsuna told him, but then his eyes glinted in the way only seasoned Mafia bosses used to manipulating their underlings could and Hayato gulped reflexively. "But according to Shamal, this Dr. House you've been communicating with is one of the best medical experts worldwide. It would be nice to have him as an external contact to the Famiglia, no?"

It was posed as an innocent query at the end of his Boss' speech but Hayato understood the connotations as was expected of a Right Hand Man. He knew how Tsuna thought, and caught up quickly to what wasn't being said. ' _If you want to protect him from the Mafia, since he's already involved thanks to you, then we make the best situation we can'_.

It warmed Hayato's heart that Boss would trust him to protect Hayato's friend.

"With you as the brigde!" Shamal piped up with an unholy light in his eyes. "See? I told you going through medical school would be worth it!".

"Shut up, I only did it in case the Tenth needed medical attention and you were gone!"

The Boss eyed his subordinate with amusement. "I think you did it so Hayato-kun would treat the males you don't treat..." He pointed out unnecessarily since that's what everyone in the room was thinking.

Yamamoto grinned over everyone's head. "If anything, it's like a vacation right? And look, Bianci will stay in Europe while you're gone, so you don't have to worry about her following you" Since when did he give the Baseball Idiot permission to treat him so casually?! He ought to…! But Tsuna's happy, earnest expression halted the hand that was inching into his pocket for a dynamite. His back straightened and he held his head high as he saluted his beloved Tenth.

"Fine! I will go for you, Lord Tenth!"

...

Lisa Cuddy eyed the papers laid on top of her desk with a learned sense of trepidation after years of dealing with House's antics. House, who was standing right in front of her and leaning heavily on his cane widened his eyes in mock innocence.

"House, what's this?" Her voice came out tired. House shuffled, shifting his weight around his damaged leg and ended his theatrics by lifting an eyebrow that all but left ' _I doubt your intelligence'_ stamped loudly across his forehead.

"A resume" He sounded out airily. That same hateful eyebrow met its twin when the second eyebrow was raised, and the ' _I doubt your intelligence'_ flag on his forehead just got bolder. "It is a pesky little document given to prospective employers, in which people tend to extol their own virtue, write a lot of lies and pretend to be model citizens".

Cynical bastard. "I know what a resume is! I want to know the meaning of this one right _here_ , you can't hire another assistant!" She pointed an accusing finger at said paper, receiving an indifferent derisive sniff from her most troublesome doctor.

"He's not going to be my minion, I promise" He sounded derisive but intriguingly earnest. It picked her interest momentarily, enough for him to notice the chip in her armor and look expectantly at her face. He looked like a beaten up old dog. Pity the dog, his eyes silently cried while her experience sent warnings left and right.

"All the same, there is no way you can employ him under you with your budget already tight" Her voice didn't waver as she said this, good.

"Who said anything about paying him? I will be _teaching_ him, that's payment enough... If only he'd call me master... and was actually female… and kind of looked like you… no wait, that was a dream I had last night, up to make it a reality?" Jiggling eyebrows.

"House" She said warningly, narrowing her eyes.

"What, it would be nice" He defended himself with a pout not suitable for a man of his age, but her heart fluttered annoyingly all the same. Traitorous hormones, Lisa resisted the urge to curse under her breath, least he saw her blush. "He is going to be under internship, under me, it's only for a few weeks".

"Who hires a temp intern in a Hospital?!" Her voice rose in tandem with her frustration. He eyed her so pointedly it was as if he had cue boards with arrows pointing at him and flashing in a flamboyant way. "Right, you do... did he even attend medical school?" Lisa sighed tiredly. Mind games with House left her exhausted.

"Best of his class, graduated with all the honors, currently works as a construction worker, I'm just trying to turn him to the dark side" House told her flippantly, and suddenly it was as if a light was lit in her head. ' _Who goes through medical school only to work as a construction worker?!'_ was the horrified thought that the scholar in her shouted out, and then it made a lot more sense as to why House wanted this one under his care.

"Seriously?"... Blank stare… "Fine, I'm curious to see where this is going. But I get to meet this.. Hayato you're so insistent on before approving anything. And I will be checking to see if this is forged!"

"Yada yada, just say I can bring the kid inside already" House toyed with his cane, eyeing her with that sadistic mirth in his eyes that infuriated and aroused her in equal measures. UGH! Troublesome man!

"You already have him here... " She deadpanned once the anger abated a little. Lisa was expecting this. Nothing was straight forward when House was in the house.

Instead of answering, House limped to her office's door and opened them a slit before bellowing out into the corridor. She could just imagine the startle everyone received! Oh the complains that would be piling on her desk by afternoon were assured now. "Kid, come meet my Master" His incendiary shout ringed in her ears, which were reddening along with her cheeks.

"House!" Her admonishing snap went over his head as he ignored her, grinning a large, contented smile when a tall young man threw open the doors with enough force to dent the wall paneling when they inevitably banged against them.

"You delusional bastard, you can't treat your Boss like- oh... Nice to meet you Dr. Cuddy"

What the?! Silver hair. Neat, pressed dark suit with polished Italian leather shoes, a suddenly serious, no-nonsense face that was staring at her with the amount of respect she only _dreamed_ of getting from her employees. And a handsome (Even topping Robert Chase's level of handsomeness) face that could make angels weep and mothers pinch cheeks.

"Hello... So, your name is Hayato Gokudera?" Lisa swallowed her doubts and bestowed a kind smile upon the young man. So this was House's new pet project? She might just come to like him a bit!

...

"And the kid was surprisingly polite considering the company House keeps" Lisa finished with an eye roll as she leaned back against her chair.

James Wilson, the only person on the face of this Earth aside from House's mother who could handle him, snorted incredulously. "Polite? Polite? That kid threatened to blow up Dr. Saltson this morning for denying to do House's patient's surgery! He only stopped hurling profanities when House passed by and whistled, telling him Chase would do it so he wouldn't have to worry" His eyes were wide and kind of accusing. She felt a twitch from the thick vein in her neck as her temper rose.

Calming herself, she made a mental note to storm in House's office to demand what the hell Wilson was talking about. If she received even _one_ complaint from Saltson she'd blow their joint, no questions asked. "So the kid ended up being House's guard dog? But he was lecturing House on his manners to me just now when I passed them in the corridor!" Her teeth mauled her lower lip.

James realized he might have incensed Lisa's mood so he tried for his best placating voice. "We have two weeks of this, let's where it goes"

The Dean of Medicine sighed, shaking her head. "Either a happy ending or the hospital up in smithereens"

...

"House, who is the kid?" Eric Foreman was, of course, the first to notice the young looking man following after House like a lost, illegally smuggled in the hospital, puppy. It didn't help that Eric has never seen the kid before and that said kid was wearing a white hospital coat usually reserved for the doctors.

He had a bad feeling when both the kid's and House's eyes trailed upon him. House's face was filled with that dark amusement that often implies everyone around him was about to be miserable – Eric straightened his spine and returned the stare with a flatness that surprised even himself.

His call also alerted the other two about the newcomer in House's office. Kutner's head was tilted curiously while he could see Taub's wide, questioning stare. The only one not impressed was Thirteen, but she did have a small, trying smile on her lips. She'd learn soon enough, she's only been in the team for a scant few months.

"Oh, right! Minions meet mini-me, mini-me meet minions, you can order them around too" His tone was imperious as he trotted through the office, limping his way to his chair and swirling on it as the doctors under his supervision got over their shock at this newest curve-ball.

How annoying. Eric scowled at House, ignoring the now bristling form of the silver haired kid who was glaring daggers at House's form. If looks could kill! "What do you mean House? Who is he?" He was ignored.

As the oldest and having more experience dealing with people in general, Taub stepped forward with a disarming smile and extended a hand toward the weird stray House dragged in today. "Hello, I'm Dr. Taub, that is Dr. Kutner and this is-"

House cut him off. "Thirteen". Earning a nasty glare from said woman for a second. She's gotten used to the nickname, and even found it amusing at times – but it irritated her that House was trying to demean her in front of this new fancy of their boss.

"Dr. Hadley" She clenched her fist tightly before raising her head to meet the kid's minty green eyes.

The kid has yet to pick on Taub's extended hand, only eyeing it with mild distrust instead.

"But call her thirteen, it's easier to remember. Now stop trying to cozy up to my new shadow" House bulldozed through their attempt at greeting and after closing off his appointment book with a loud, obnoxious snap, hobbled out of his chair to stand beside his new friend with a fantastically expectant look.

Eric lost his patience and exclaimed, Taub having long since retracted his hand with an embarrassed hue to his cheeks. "What's his name?!" ' _Why do you have to be so infuriating!?'_ Was the thought most likely being shared by his minions.

"Greg Jr." House's grin was gay and fluttery, making what was left of their patience sky drop to pool in the negatives.

Just when Eric was about to contemplate storming out the office before he did something he'd regret later, a new person walked briskly inside and said with a light trace of anger "Dr. Hayato Gokudera" Lisa Cuddy. Their saving angels. Then she turned her cold, hard stare on House "House, stop dawdling, you have work to do"

"Who uses words like dawdling anymore?" He didn't waste a beat to mock Dr. Cuddy.

The kid bristled like an angry cat, moving lithely and silently to stand in front of their boss' boss. "House! You shouldn't disrespect your precious Boss like that! Be on your knees as ask forgiveness!" Then he turned around and bowed low, his back a perfect 90° from his legs "I'm sorry about him Dr. Cuddy, I will try harder to curb his disrespect in the future"

Amazed, all the three doctors could do was stare as the young man rounded on House and proceeded to _lecture_ him. Dr. Cuddy was hiding a laugh behind her hand, but her shoulders were shaking too much for it to be effective.

"Just... Who is the mentor in that relationship?" Someone commented tightly.

House just rolled his eyes.

...

Next day promised to be marginally better. House managed to pick up a patient and so was busy thinking up diagnostics to bother trying to antagonize (too much) the rest of them. He'd poke his head into their convention room where they'd idle time away while waiting for exam results, and ping pong ideas.

A typical day.

If one discounted the new face around.

Hayato was sitting on a very comfortable looking chair that didn't exist there before ' _where did it come from?!_ ' (A mafia quirk. Bring your own chairs, ever since a Don was glued to his seat and blown up). And reading an obscure book that had _nothing_ to do with medicine if the picture and tittle on the cover was any indication – _Advanced Mathematics for The Entrepreneur Space Explorer…_ If the kid was reading something like that, he had to be bored out of his mind right?

Remy traded a look with Eric – Taub was busy running tissue sample tests in the lab and Kutner was doing clinic – Eric nodded, turning with Remy to look at the kid who now wore reading glasses and had his hair pined up in a pony-tail.

' _Sprawled on his chair like that, he looks like an escapee from a model agency._ '

The female doctor cleared her throat, kicking herself inwardly for the flutter in her stomach when Hayato rose his head away from his book and pierced her with those sharp green eyes. It was a nervous flutter, even though right now she was straight (with Eric). "Hey... Can you check up on the patient?" Her voice came out whole and steady.

The kid didn't even pretend to think about it before answering with a dry, painful...

"No"

Eric glared shuffled angrily as he snapped at the kid. "Why? You're not doing anything and House said-"

The kid cut him off with no pity whatsoever. "I don't treat anyone but the Tenth"

"Ughh!"

...

Lawrence Kutner leaned over Hayato's shoulder, unminding of the dark aura surrounding the young man. "What is that?" He asked, looking down at the table where the silver haired man was fiddling with a stick of some sort. It seemed interesting, the Indi-American doctor thought, maybe a prop or a modified cigar? The kid was always taking smoking breaks.

( _"That's an unhealthy habit"_

" _Fuck off Potty-Eyebrow" Lawrence cleverly backed off)_

Hayato's eyes gleamed maliciously "Dynamite"

Now _this_ was curious! Thinking he was joking, Dr. Kutner laughed off "Hahha, nice one, seriously, what is that?"

"If you ask once more I can easily make the explosion seem like a gas leak" Lawrence cleverly backed off. Again.

...

Convening in House's office, the three doctors under House and House's pet supervisor paused, staring in fascination as their boss and their boss' little protégée went back and forth in a very heated conversation that sounded just as lovely.

If only the rest of them could understand it. "What are they saying?" Chris Taub asked hesitantly, eyeing his coworkers with a trepidation hidden in the bend of his brows.

Eloquent as always, the one in the room who had possibly the biggest balls amongst them piped up with a shrug "It sounds like gibberish to me" That was Remy.

"It's Chinese" Eric Foreman intoned flatly, so _not_ amused that they could practically _see_ the paint peel off around him. Figuratively.

The Jewish doctor's eyes furrowed. For one who could level a very impressive dry look at any given moment, he has perhaps the most open face. "Since when does House know Chinese? And how is the kid keeping up?" He voiced their thoughts, tone filled with incredulity. The only one who wasn't caught by surprise was Eric, who already knew House had a way with languages.

"Oi! Don't you know its rude to listen in other people's conversation?" The silver haired mini-House bellowed, peeking from behind Gregory House who was snorting in amusement.

Greg patted his shoulder consolingly. "They're cavemen, kid, don't be too offended by their lack of manners"

Hayato looked at them from toes to head, paused to think for a moment and then shrugged, nodding and humming under his breath.

' _Look who's talking!_ '

...

The patient was being difficult.

It wasn't news. Every now and then they had to deal with stubborn people, it was just a fact of hospital life that made them _very_ glad House didn't deem patients important enough to interact with from the start.

The woman was dying, it made sense she was hysterical. "You're lying... I won't consent to this surgery!"

Hayato, who was dragged inside the ITU by a very annoyed House (but strangely calm) flickered his stormy green eyes on the woman lamenting on the bed. As soon as he opened his mouth, they understood why House had such a victorious air around him. Damn. "Look you useless crybaby! Do you know what will happen to you if you don't do this? Your heart rate will pick up, you're going to spend more time unconscious than not, your blood will become toxic and melt you from the inside out, you're going to be in unbearable pain begging for death that won't come until your heart explodes, so do the damn surgery and stop your ridiculous whining because its giving me a headache!"

"..." The woman's breath hitched, her eyes were wide and wild, like a spooked horse.

House nodded once to his team, steering a steaming Hayato from the room, pausing only long enough to toss an absent "What he said" over his shoulders and leaving a gaping, horrified audience behind.

…

"Look. I don't care how annoying a patient is, you _cannot_ sic your puppy on them like that! What if that woman presses charges?"

"Then she will be _alive_ to press charges" His voice was brusque, this was one of those occasions when Lisa was serious and Greg knew not to press her buttons. Too much, at least. "She would be dead by now if Hayato didn't pound some sense into her" Greg argued, smirking inwardly when his boss glared and opened her pretty, pouty lips to continue their discussions.

A perfect ending for his day.

…

James Wilson stared at his friend who was laying comfortably on the couch. James' couch.

He'd enter while he was attending to a patient and hasn't left since.

( _"Excuse me, mind if I take a kip here? My office is too noisy right now"_

" _House, I'm in the middle of a conversation"_

" _I don't mind, go on, tell him his Ganglioma is terminal so he can leave already"_

" _House! Please don't listen to him-")._ That was almost a daily occurrence, so James has learned to ignore his friend's dark humor and to appreciate his dry wit. Sometimes. Most of the times. _Maybe_.

"House... What are you getting at with the kid?" He broke the semi pathetically intimidating silence by addressing the literal white elephant in their every conversation so far. They all surrounded or alluded to the same subject. "Is it some kind of midlife crisis?" Greg raised an eyebrow and tilted his head from the pillow made of his own forearms, just to send a pointed stare at James that had the later glaring on principle.

Greg huffed "Nonsense! Hayato followed me home, I took pity on the baby doctor and decided to take him under my wing" He waved a hand in an absent notion through the air, as if dispelling all the notions that he was _up to something_. "it's my good deed of the year for karma, Mitsvá and all that."

"Since when do you believe in karma?" James asked incredulously, both eyebrows up. "You can't tot the kid around like that House. He is destructive, disruptive, disrespectful and a menace to the nurses and other doctors. The only one who can control him are you and Dr. Cuddy (for some reason)" His voice rose as he spoke, prompting Greg to sit up the ridiculously comfortable couch to stare his friend in the eye on equal grounds.

His lips lifted in a mocking grin "Don't they grow fast? He's already intimidating away lawsuits like a pro – did you hear? That blowing heart patient dropped the charges after a nice chat with Hayato"

The Oncologist blinked slowly, deflating airs as if suddenly poked by a sharp needle. Then he shook his head and pointed an accusing finger at Greg, cheeks growing rouge from his rising anger "He had almost 2pounds of explosives on him! Dr. Cuddy had to assure the FBI that he was not a terrorist and even then they did a background check!"

That made Greg laugh unrepentantly, even as he sent a secretive look to James that spoke volumes of his sanity.

Then he piped out, airily and in a teasing sing-song voice that would have made a lesser man deck him. "Of course he isn't a terrorist. He is an Assassin from the mafia"

A deadpan formed on James' face. So dry it might have dried up the Nile. "Haha, very funny. Seriously, heel in your puppy"

...

Gregory House held onto the high-tech looking cell phone as it ringed on Speaker mode.

The loud, stringent sound echoing around the Office and making his minions' heads swill on his direction when he started to blab in Italian, until he switched to English when a soft, carefully controlled voice sounded out a clear greeting in their own language. "Ciao, Clam CEO Office, this is Sawada speaking" The English was strained and carried a particular accent that was hard to place, but from the name of the speaker, they deduced Japanese.

"Hi!" House positively _chirped_. It was scary on principle. A grown man should _not_ sound that brightly, like a little girl. "Is this Hayato's boss?" He cooed to the Speaker, make all his eavesdropping staff to stop pretending they weren't interested.

"I thought you were the kid's boss" Dr. Chris Taub, the resident ex-plastic surgeon commented out loud with a bewildered look. Remy nodded, equally as surprised though she hid it better than the men. Dr. Lawrence Kutner only leaned forward from his seat to hear the rest of the conversation better.

The voice from the other side politely ignored the ruckus in House's office. "Salve Dr. House, is Gokudera-kun giving you trouble?" Sawada inquired, something steely disguised in the tenor of his voice and the way his accent playing with the sound of some words.

"Not at all. Your puppy is already house trained" Greg told Hayato's supposed real Boss before looking at Dr. Chris with an indifferent shrug and telling him with enviable nonchalance. "Nah, borrowed him from the mafia"

There was a significant pause from Sawada on the other side. They could hear light sounds of scuffles and someone saying something in a foreign language none of them recognized. At least until Hayato's boss picked up the phone again "S-sure. Please give him back safe and sound"

(Unknown to them, Tsuna was freaking out about Ómerta and worried sick about Hayato. It took Reborn – now Renato Sinclair again – to assure him that Greg was playing. And unknown to the Vongola, Greg also spoke Manadarin, so he understood everything either way).

Greg was about to speak when the door was busted open and a human hurricane pin bowled trough the three other doctors to reach his phone. Greg pilfered it earlier that day with this very intention… "Boss!? Is that you!? You senile old man, were you talking to the Lord Tenth!? You're not worthy!" Hayato cried out, rounding on Greg and pointing an accusing finger on his face. "Gimme the phone, I want to talk to the Boss privately as his right hand man!"

"Gokudera-kun! Behave. No more reports of threatening doctors and extorting patients" The voice was calm and even fond, but it was all it took for Hayato to lay off Greg and pick up his head, like a disciplined military man. Or a puppy.

At least until Greg spoke to Sawada with a playful note in his voice that was _not_ lost on anyone. "Then why did I bring him here for? Watching him terrify the nurses was half the fun!"

His team snapped almost in Unisom "House!"

They were obviously ignored. "Seriously, we are talking to the chief Clam and all you do is cry out my name?" Hayato froze, meeting Greg's blue eyes with his now panicky green ones. The blue eyes glinted maniacally.

Green eyes relaxed. "You old fart, you know?" The silver haired mini-house asked softly.

"Know what?" Greg let the question fly over his head as he smiled innocently at his _apprentice._

"N-nothin-Hiiie!" Apparently Sawada took exception to the previous question, and not being privy to the expressive eye by-play between old and young Doctors, became a bit nervous.

They kept in stunned silence as they heard a _THUD_ from the other side, followed by a distant voice calling out a hard… " _Bosses don't stutter! Man up dame-Tsuna_ " In Mandarin, so only two fifths of the occupants of the room really understood. One of the two winced in sympathy; the other was trying to smother his snickers.

" _Don't shoot_ -" BANG " _Ow... Thanks Mukuru-kun_ " Cue collective flinches at the gunshot noise and subsequent foreign speech.

"Kufufufu"

… A dramatic pause. The creepy laugh still ringing in their head… House picked up the phone and turned it off, before offering the device to a pale Hayato whose eyes spelled _death_. It didn't help the dark murderous muttering he was doing under his breath.

( _"When I put my hands on that Pineapple head…"_ ) (Never mind that Mukuro saved Tsuna from a Reborn-cause death)

"Your famiglia is quite lively, kid. Now come on, party is over, we have world domination plans to iron out" Greg broke the quiet stupor, smiling cheerfully and half putting all his minions at easy. At least until he broke down in a creepy laugh of his own. "Mufufufu!"

Hayato understandably shivered before doing a double take "Who says I have to help you, stupid cripple!"

"We just heard that conversation right?" Remy questioned weakly, wide eyes accompanying her boss and his silver haired buddy as they bickered down the hall.

Chris hummed thoughtfully, smiling, entertained despite the twilight zone situation. "I'm more impressed that he took House seriously" he pointed out.

"Wasn't he?" Lawrence's head tilted to the side in an innocent picture of confusion.

All three of them paled. "... Shit"

...

The Imperial March accompanied House as he strolled through the hospital corridor beside his nominated best friend.

James' mouth tilted up in amusement as he recognized the tune. "Isn't that Star Wars?"

"Cuddy's new ring tone" House told him smugly, humming the notes under his breath just for kicks.

James' nodded slowly. "Ah" He hesitated. It finally dawned on him why this seemed so wrong. "Wait, where is your little minion and why is Cuddy furiously calling after you instead of just paging?"

"He's not my minion, he's my apprentice" Was House quick and default defense since he picked up Hayato last week. "Left my pager with the kid and had him fulfill my clinic hours" He stated proudly, looking at James with wide, kitten eyes. Well, they had to duck down when the whole hospital shook with a loud explosive noise. "Ops"

And James just knew this was somehow his friend's fault. "House!"

A few days later, the warrant company and the police blamed the explosion on an unfortunate gas leak – it was a real danger, what with all the oxygen tanks and dangerous chemicals lying all around the hospital. Thankfully the only damaged area was the entrance and some clinic rooms. No one was fatally injured.

(Hayato spent the day preening under House's knowing gaze. Those specialized explosives were developed for stun and sound only, no concussive power. Just to scare a couple of slobbering idiots who clogged the clinic on a daily bases. It worked for both Hayato and House.)

...

It was Hayato's last day on the hospital. House could be found alongside his temporary pet in Lisa's office.

There was also a distinguished looking, young Japanese man. The man seemed to be about Hayato's age, dressed in a suit and oozing a strange magnetic presence. (Lisa Cuddy's undeveloped Mist flames were surging, she didn't know why, but she liked this young man).

The fluffy haired Japanese youth smiled brightly at her and bowed his head politely, while holding out a white check note.

Lisa took the check and choked since her lungs decided to _stop working and oh my god so many zeroes!_ "This is a very generous check Mr. Sawada" She rasped out, staring wide eyed at the blushing young man in front of her.

"It's my way of thanking you for taking care of my subordinate Dr. Cuddy" He explained, smiling sheepishly while looking at Hayato with undeniable fondness.

"Subordinate?" Lisa caught on the word play, looking pointedly at House. "House..." She growled under her breath.

"A-ah... I'm head of this big construction company in Italy, and Hayato is my right hand man" Sawada Tsunayoshi explained, fighting down his embarrassment by being strangely compelling. He just had this aura that… even House seemed affected in some way (Gregory House had strangely potent Cloud Flames – unknown to him, he propagated his pain in an unconscious level).

"A well paid, horribly smart, pyromaniac right hand man" House noted sarcastically. "I told he was a mafia Assassin"

Lisa's eye twitched when she noticed the guilty tilt present on Mr. Sawada's shoulder. "The gas leak" She breathed out.

"Like I said, thank you for taking care of him" Sawada added quickly, before anyone else could toy with Ómerta.

The Dean of Medicine glared at her best doctor. He whistled, staring at his nails unconcernedly. "House, you and I need to have a very long talk" she threatened darkly.

House smirked. "Alright. As soon as I come back from my vacation in Italy" he nodded to himself, wobbling to the door and dismissing her, their visitor and his silver haired puppy. "By the way, I am requesting vacation time. Just a fortnight"

Sawada traded knowing looks with looks with Hayato.

Lisa resisted the urge to bang her head on the table.

…

"Now… mafia? Really?"

"Shut up you old fart! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Hieee! Gokudera-kun, not in an airplane, please!"

…

 _End! Hahha! I feel accomplished! :)  
Hope it was fine for everyone who asked for a continuation!_


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